


On Pain of Guilt

by 3rdstarksistr



Series: Sansan Kink [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, F/M, Kink, Spanking, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5234747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdstarksistr/pseuds/3rdstarksistr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sandor Clegane intervened for Sansa Stark in the modern world, he paid for it with five years in prison for assault. Sansa is there to pick him up as he’s released, but she isn’t prepared for what he has in mind to pay him back, her own punishment in the form of spanking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Pain of Guilt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annie_rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_rose/gifts).



> Thanks to annie_rose for inspiring me with a scene of spanking in one of her lovely stories! This is for all of you that enjoy some spanking or are open to some sexy sansan. This definitely got a little deeper than I planned, but hell, I love to make these two fall for each other.

_There once was a little girl with a crush on a bad, bad boy._

_When that bad boy got out of prison, that little girl’s ass was in big, big trouble._

\- Die Antwoord, “Cookie Thumper”

 

Driving out of the city, Sansa grips the wheel with a growing pit of anxiety in her stomach. She’s never been so nervous, even when she’d gone there before, and it doesn’t feel like she’s in her normal self, but rather some strange compulsion is on auto-pilot moving her along. She is finally getting to see him as a free man after five years and a mountain of letters. He’d tell her she was the only link he had to the outside, that what kept him focused on getting out was to see his little girl.

Still, it was hard to know how to feel about it all. She was so young when all of it happened. Sixteen. What had she done? She couldn’t even lie properly to get him off the hook. He’d been detained right then and there. All he had done was save her, but she didn’t even know him. He was some rough man who had intervened when no one else would. _Still a particularly rough man,_ she feels her pulse quicken.

Out of guilt, she had sent that fateful letter a few months after his time began. She never thought he’d respond. He’d seemed so angry, and she could barely look at the man for the hideous scars marring half his face. She had itched to thank him though, so a letter would have to do, she thought. Sansa was shocked when she received a reply from Sandor Clegane, full name of the prison on it and everything. There wasn’t much in it, but he’d asked her for more letters and to send pictures, and so their correspondence began.

Her parents were shocked when she asked to go see him. They had decided to ban her from any contact with him, but they didn’t have much say when she turned eighteen and so, she took up her letters again. It was then she decided to visit him. He’d been asking her to, but it was not close and the prospect frightened her. Would she be able to look at him, scars and all? Face the man she had started to tell more about herself to than even her best friend knew.  

That first visit was very strange. He just looked at her with a brazen intensity, making her aware of any slight movement even her breathing made under his scrutiny like he was trying to make out every detail of her from across the window. Though she had pushed herself to look at his face no matter how bad the scars were that had faded in her memory, she couldn’t breath when his eyes bore into hers because she realized she didn’t know this man at all. Was this the man from all her letters signed Sandor? The two seemed completely different in her mind, and she couldn’t reconcile them here in the stark visiting room with glass between them and fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. He seems so much larger and rougher in person than memory, or rather the Sandor in her head from his letters, that it still serves to place fear in her that the ragged, burnt half of his face only heightens and despite her best efforts, repulse. They’d barely said a word to each other, and she drove back home in utter silence, stunned by the whole ordeal.

She had thought to end it then, not for the first time or the last, but somehow his letters kept coming and she found herself writing to him when she needed a friend. She had missed the Sandor in his letters to her, they were shorter than hers but he always discussed anything she wrote to him about and asked after her in a way she needed, in a way that made her feel special. But now she was going to see Sandor the man, and there would be no more bars between them. He had alluded to her need to pay for her part in his imprisonment, and she had tried to not take that seriously. Still, it was in the back of her mind as she turned into the correctional facility.

After waiting what seemed like hours, luckily spent with the book she was mindful to bring with her, there Sandor Clegane walks into the room for release, the giant of a man himself with a bag of belongings in tow. The hardness in his steel eyes seems to soften slightly when he catches sight of her seated in the corner. Sansa stands up, arranging the lay of the yellow dress he had requested she wear, before looking up to see him so close to her it made her breath catch and attempt to step back, losing balance in her pumps. His hand shot out to steady her waist, and she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing onto his other hand for help.

“Little bird, careful,” Sandor speaks in his grating, deep voice, using the nickname he’d chosen for her, and she even detects amusement in his tone. _How is he so calm?!_ Her heart is hammering from the intensity of the moment so much she places her free hand over her chest to at least try to steady it.

“You’d think I’d be the one with nerves, stepping out of this shithole for the first time in five fucking years,” he smirks at her, not letting go of her hand, _and is he even caressing it as he brushes his thumb over it?_ He steps back to look her over it seems, letting go of her waist with a brush of his hand down her dress. “Good,” he tells her, not putting her at ease at all. _What has she walked into? It’s just a dress, right?_

Still, she finds her composure somehow, taking a deep breath to suggest, “Ready?”

He nods to her, his hand tightening on hers as she tries to loosen it. _Well, this is awkward_ , she swallows hard.

Heading towards her vehicle, Sandor requests, “Mind if I drive?” with a hand held out for her keys, _not the one with a vise grip on hers of course!_ This is all too much for her, she’s barely had boyfriends during their time apart, and the one that lasted the longest always hated her letters to Sandor. _Was she just not seeing this?_

“You can,” she hands him the keys, _the least she can do is honor this request, he hasn’t driven a car in years._

Riding back to the city from where the prison is built out in the middle of nowhere, Sandor lets out a sigh, sounding contented as he steers along the road, away from his very real prison. Sansa feels a need to set things straight and tells him, “You know I’m not your girlfriend, right?”

“I know,” he replies, though the subject somehow inclines him to pick up her hand again that was laying on her lap, even pressing it to his half-scarred lips, making her more confused. “But you’re such a pretty little bird for me today,” his eyes glance over at her as he continues down the road. “After the years I’ve spent locked up for you, I’d like one night, then I’ll leave you be if you want. I just thought, from your letters and the dress.” He shakes his head, letting go of her hand then.

“One night?” her lips can’t hold back asking. _How could he expect that of her?_ She tries to rationalize, “If you’re interested in going on a date with me, we will have to discuss that possibility and plan accordingly.” Proud of herself for being clear in her boundaries, she then feels uncomfortable at the booming laughter from Sandor.

“Such a proper thing the little bird is,” he jeers at her with an off-putting grin. “A date is not what I had in mind, just take care of an old dog for the night.”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she spits out, defiant.

He’s the one looking at her shocked now, but then his customary smirk for her takes its place, “Now I know what’s got your feathers all ruffled. No worries, little bird, nothing you don’t want. Just feed me and give me a place to crash.” His eyes flit over to hers again as he speaks, “The little bird really has grown up and gotten some claws. Good for you.” She can’t seem to get the upper hand with this man, making her miss the even playing field of their letters. Still, her heart wrings at the idea of him not having a place to stay, how could she be so inconsiderate? She’s probably the only person he has on the outside. He doesn’t even have a phone. Does he even have money? She should have been more prepared for this instead of so focused on her own anxiety.

“Sorry if I offended you. Of course, I will take care of you,” she replies, looking over at Sandor, seeing a glimpse of the man she really knows. “Talons, too, not claws for birds," she smiles in his direction.

Sandor huffs in response nonchalant, but he’s the one gripping the wheel now, not looking at her. “What’s wrong?” she asks, placing a hand on his arm that makes him immediately react by gripping her wrist. She involuntarily yelps at his action, and he quickly realizes his reflex and lets her go.

“Nothing,” he dismisses and moves to grab his poor excuse for a bag from the back of her car, mentioning finding some place to eat. The bag breaks, spilling out bound letters in her lap and all over the car. Sansa gasps with awe – these are all her letters to him! She never thought she’d see them again.

Sandor grits out bitterly, “Fuck,” as he attempts to gather them back in the broken bag to hide her letters.

“No,” Sansa asserts, “I want to see them!”

“Dammit,” Sandor continues to grit out, trying to tug one of the parcels from her hands but losing resolve. “There was some kind of gift card or other shit they give us these days in there.” _He’s worried about paying for something?_

“Don’t worry about it right now,” she tries to soothe him.

“I’m fucking hungry and I don’t want to wait till the city to finally get the shit taste of that place out of my mouth,” Sandor fumes.

“I will take care of it, okay?” she continues meekly.

“I can buy a fucking dinner,” he bites.

Sansa doesn’t say a word, trying to let the growing anger from him settle, but the tremble is back in her from his tirade, all over not being able to care for himself yet, understandable, she thinks. This whole ordeal must be doubly stressful for him. At least she’s here for him. Instead, she opens up a pack of the oldest looking letters to look through them, seeing the ones from when she was sixteen and seventeen, even a few old pictures that bring a smile to her face, like the one with her new puppy after losing Lady. She was so young, so scared of everything after what happened.

“Thanks for keeping all of them,” she tries to smile over at the hardened man.

“Yeah,” he responds, brushing a hand over his head, evidently unsure what to say.

Pulling into the next exit, both of them settle into a booth at the diner there, Sandor ordering immediately.

“Just coffee,” Sansa tells the tired-looking waitress, “Wait, I’ll have a waffle, too.” It’s been quite a day for her also, but she can’t imagine what Sandor must be going through. He seems lost in moments, and those seem to wound his pride. _Men and their pride_ , she shakes her head.

“What?” Sandor asks her, seeing her slight movement.

“Nothing, just thinking about how much you’re going through with getting out and all,” she tells him. Probably not a subject he wants to discuss by the look on his face.

“Still scared of me at times, aren’t you?” he glares at her, switching the hot button to her.

“Sandor, it’s just I know you through your letters and so it’s different in person.” She’s come to realize how true that is, but seeing he kept all the letters she sent him softened her disposition toward the man in the flesh, bridging those two men together. Sansa continues, “You can be a bit rough around the edges, but it’s easier now. Plus you saved me. I could have died.” Somehow a true smile comes to her lips while looking at him across the table and thinking about him reading those letters from her, even though locked in his prison cell. Thinking of him taping up the pictures of her to keep him company in that dark place. While she only could keep clippings from the paper of his trial, it was always a good reminder of him and that she had survived.

“Little bird,” he reaches his hand over the table to her, and though hesitant, she obliges him by resting her palm in his. They stay like this for several minutes uncounted, and she feels a warmth spread through her from his hand holding hers that makes her uncomfortable in a different way, no less frightening though. She feels connected to him to the point that makes any regrets at not ending things with this rough, intimidating man vanish forever.

Their food arrives, Sandor’s is pretty much all breakfast food imaginable, but before he lifts his fork, he asks Sansa, “He doesn’t bother you anymore? You would’ve told me, right?”

“No, he doesn’t,” a little tear falls down her cheek. “He’s still locked up and isn’t allowed contact with me. When he gets out, I’ll have a restraining order filed.”

“Should’ve ended him, nearly did, but would never have gotten out again.” Sandor moves her hand up and down in a rather affectionate gesture. “Never would’ve seen my little girl again,” he gives her hand a squeeze and lets go to start on his mountain of offerings.

“I’m not so little now,” she smirks at him and steals a ribbon of bacon.

“Not the bacon,” he jokingly moves to block any further attempts on her part.

“Still, restraining orders are shit, and he’s not one to forget,” Sandor points out the reality of her situation between pieces of his own waffle dripping in syrup.

“That’s a long time from now, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there,” Sansa diminishes the fear that will sometimes wake her up at night and likely the reason she has to take a pill every day.

“I’ll be there with you when he gets out, if you want,” Sandor tells her, and it moves her beyond words that he’d make a promise like that.  

“Thank you,” Sansa sweetly replies, feeling her appetite return to dig into her waffle.

Getting back on the road, the sun nearly set beside them, she puts on some music to fill the silence, pleasant as it is, while she fights the urge to lay her head on his shoulder. Somehow he’s made her go from extremely unsure of him to feeling completely safe in his presence. He must feel the same when his arm closest to her finds her hand in her lap. There’s no hesitation now as she rests her side against his strong arm like a buttress holding her together and takes a deep, contented breath.

Arriving at her apartment, Sansa kicks off her heels and shows Sandor the layout of the rooms. Her roommate seems to live with her boyfriend these days, making it convenient for Sandor to stay.

After she’s retrieved a blanket and pillows for the couch that will have to do, Sandor approaches her, his hand tracing down her arm. “I want you to do something for me. Do you think you can be a good little bird?”

“Maybe,” she responds, unsure of his direction.

“You know you should’ve been able to lie for me, to get me off the hook but you couldn’t, could you?” Sandor brings up.

“I’m sorry, I tried,” Sansa pleads.

“You got me in a lot of trouble, you understand that? Especially since they knew you tried to lie for me,” he stresses.

“I do really, and I didn’t mean to,” she continues to plead.

“I know, but you need to be disciplined for what you’ve done,” Sandor states in all seriousness.

Sansa looks at him wide-eyed as caught prey, anticipating what he’s getting at.

“I need to spank you, little bird,” he specifies in his deep voice that will brook no question. He pulls out the chair from the kitchen table and sits with a demand, “Over my knee, now.” Sansa is shocked to her core, trembling, her toes pointed together revealing her hesitation.

“Now, Sansa. Trust me, you are safe,” he looks at her with such authority she feels she cannot resist him. She takes a deep breath, thinking, _I should honor this request, I owe him that. He wouldn’t hurt me, would he?_

“Yes, Sandor,” she replies taking measured steps toward him. Sandor takes her hand, helping her over his lap. Her head facing the floor feels strange with her hair flowing down around her, as does her legs sticking out, but nothing compares to how exposed she feels with her ass in the air, only covered by the thin layers of her dress.

Sandor lets out a pleased hum above her as his hands trail from her waist down over her bottom, giving it a soft testing pat, then down her legs, which makes a thrill run through her while the anticipation and uncertainty drives her nerves crazy.

“Listen, little bird, you need to use the word, ‘safe,’ when I’ve gone too far, okay? Or hurt too much. But I want you to be a good girl and take as much as you can.”

“Okay,” she responds, trying to understand, but strangely not wanting to let him down either.

She feels his large, callused hands behind her, making her tense up as he pulls the layers of her dress up over her bottom to reveal her little pair of matching yellow panties. Sandor mutters, “Mmmm,” lightly cupping each cheek with his warm hand. She whimpers slightly at the motion, unable to hold back at the odd pleasure and newness she’s experiencing. His other hand holding her against him moves down her back in a comforting gesture.

“Oh, little bird, so perfectly grown up for me, so soft and round and pale all over,” he relates in his deep timber, the vibrations from which she can feel run through her as his hands run down her thighs and back up. The tips of his fingers brushing her inner thighs are an exquisite torture to her exposed self. Noticing her reaction, he presses his hand vertical between her cheeks, running down between them to where her thighs begin, making her squirm and clench up at the sensation.

“That’s my girl, you like this, don’t you?” he smoothes his hand over each cheek, his other hand pulling her hair up into his fist as he lands his first blow, not too hard, to her left cheek. Her breathing goes shallow as she feels the light sting of another measured spank from his hand on the other. He smoothes his hand in a circle over her soft panties, waiting a moment before landing a smack to the bottom of her ass, right in that sweet spot before her thighs. She can’t stop the little yelp that escapes her and to ease into the bit of warmth the spanking is spreading through her.  

“Answer me, girl,” he demands as the spankings are repeated, starting with soft stings and then the full impact against her bottom as he pulls her with a yank on her hair, contorting her, making her expose more of herself. She relents to him, feeling any guilt she still held onto fading with each blow he continues to land on her, putting her almost in a trance.

“Yes,” she softly whispers and then gasps as another two unyielding spanks to her bottom knock the breath out of her, sending her mind reeling. She senses him bend over her, pressing kisses down the edges of her panties while sliding his hand over her thighs, moving to cup each cheek slightly in a way she’s beginning to like. It gives her just the right amount of time to feel okay again before he’s raising himself up, pressing his broad hand against her backside and landing a blow as she seizes up in anticipation.

“Trying to prepare yourself for the pain by clenching, so cute,” he remarks while attempting another blow, making her seize up again, but stopping just short to pat her panties, making her feel silly and try to relax into it instead if that’s what he wants. Sandor then repeats the motion of hitting each cheek before landing a sharp slap to her whole bottom, making her yelp even louder. _It’s getting harder._

“Now you’re learning your lesson,” Sandor tells her as he rubs her bottom softly. He’s then pulling up on her hair and spanking her whole ass again with several impacts, causing her to involuntarily cry out though it only serves to egg him on as he continues to spank her, alternating intensity while he maintains his grip on the bulk of her hair, contorting her further.

“Let’s take these off,” he points out as his thumb pulls under her panties. Next thing she knows, he’s pulling them down over her ass, truly exposing her to him. That alone would have her heart thumping louder and faster if it weren’t for the continued onslaught of his bare hand she’s anticipating. Pulling her panties off, he remarks pleased, “Oh, so wet for me,” looking at them, and then she feels it, his hand pushing open her thighs. “Sandor?” she questions from her bent over position, and he explains, “I want to feel how wet this is getting you.” She didn’t really think this would happen, but his happiness is clear as she feels his long finger extend over her pussy, circling in the abundance of wetness he finds there, eliciting a different type of pleasure for her, making her eyelids half close and her mouth open in want. “Fuck me, little bird, so, so wet, you’re too perfect.”

Returning his hand to her bottom, Sandor hums, “Nice and warm. Let’s get it red, too, you need it.” He bends over again to press kisses over each cheek as he continues to caress her now uncovered ass. She could fall into the sensation of his large, warm hands gently cupping each cheek, covering nearly all of it, and the play of his fingertips tracing the outline of each one and running up between them again before teasingly down to where her thighs meet. Her composure returns to her momentarily as he lets her have a peaceful minute of simple touches.

Soon though, his hand leaves her to come crashing down in a spank, again and again. There’s a guttural quality to her yelps now that is beyond her control, and the sting of his hand is unhindered by her panties, lending all its intensity. Still, when his hand hits her center just right those gasps end in moans and whimpers at the wonderfully torturous sensation.

Continuing, he softens his intensity in several spanks, only to severely smack her whole backside, pulling on her hair in conjunction. She sucks in air with a shriek at the sharp sting, then pleads unhinged, “No, Sandor, please don’t do this.” He moves to softly ghost his hand over her bottom, dropping to kiss lightly, “You’re doing very good, little bird, better than I’d hoped. But you know what to say when you can go no further. You know you need more.” She can feel her body quiver slightly, but somehow the desire to be good, to not let him down is so strong she believes she can take more for him.

“Okay,” her response is tentative to her own ears as she nods for him to continue. The harshness of the last blow continues to leave its mark as the slap of less intense spanks sting worse than they should. He seems to be letting her build up to more, or maybe he does not want to end his time with her yet. She can sense his heavy breaths as his hand’s blows grow in intensity to a severe spank of each cheek before breaking across her whole bottom again, making her wail, “No,” but the pleasure from the pain is so real to her now, she cannot deny it, even if it still hurts beyond belief. _I can take one more. Please._

“Good girl,” he kisses her ass again, his hand rubbing down between her cheeks in an exquisite fashion before he once again extends a finger to circle her clit, “God, how slick, such a good, little bird.” It’s true, she can tell there’s no friction at all in his ministrations, but she gasps when that long, rough finger of his moves back from her clit to tease along her entrance and test the waters by pushing in slightly. She whimpers, but so surrendered to him is she at this point, her legs fall open and she does not squirm, just enjoys what he offers to her. Still, Sansa’s surprised that as he delves further, increasing the pleasure moving in and out slightly, she can feel the wetness from her now drip down her thighs. Has she ever been this aroused before?

“You are amazing,” he tells her as he continues to touch her, moving his finger in and out of her and finding that nub again with his thumb. It is too much and her eyes roll to the back of her head and her toes curl wantonly. Sandor pulls his finger out, licking it, and he’s then raising her up on his lap. Sitting on his knee with her panties still around her ankles and the layers of her dress draped is sharply uncomfortable from his assault on her bottom. Sandor tells her, “You’ve been a very good girl, you know that?” while he brushes down her hair with his fingers.

She can’t help but smile and nod despite how her whole body seems to tremble slightly from the intensity of her spanking. She truly feels carefree, her mind floating as if on a cloud or on a swaying raft down a slow river; still, tears start to threaten in her eyes from the intensity of what just occurred. Sandor pulls her to him, rubbing her back as she lets the tears fall against him. All the guilt vanishes, the discipline is actually helping, but there’s a new bond with Sandor now that she wasn’t prepared for. She would do anything for this man.

Feeling better after a couple minutes, she pulls back to look at him, and he looks happy almost with a softness in his eyes that darken when his hand edges up her skirt. His other arm holds her steady against him while she goes slack from the ministrations he indulges her in, curling his finger up into her while her rubs her clit. She must be soaking his leg in all her wetness, but she is all his now, her legs open to him.

“Okay, little bird, you’ve been very good, but I’m going to give you ten more spankings, do you think you can handle that?” Sandor tells her, and she jolts to attention, thinking her discipline was over.

“But...” she begins to pout, her eyes innocent.

“I know you can do it, they will all be hard though,” his strong voice convinces her.

“Okay, I trust you,” she replies, submitting to his wishes, and the happiness is clear on his face before he releases his play with her pussy to squeeze her against him in a strong embrace like he’d never let her go.

After a minute of holding her, he helps her up, wobbly as she’s become, and helps bend her over the couch. “Let’s get rid of this dress,” Sandor tells her as he reaches for the zipper, tugging at it until it’s pooling around her feet. She shivers for a moment now that only her bra remains, but then he’s pulling at the strap on that, too, making her spill out as he unwraps her from it. She stays against the pillows on the couch, keeping this part of her covered despite her ass even barer to him in this position.

Standing behind her, he moves her legs apart further so her thighs are open, and now that he’s ready, his momentum is stronger than before as he lands his first hard blow to the center of her bottom, causing her to gasp loudly before melting into the warm pain. He caresses her for a moment before rearing back for another spank but stopping short, as she’s all seized up for it. As soon as she relaxes though, the impact hits her hard, knocking the breath out of her and making her shriek. She hears him hum with pleasure at her pain-induced reactions.

He gathers a little of her wetness on his hand for his next stinging smack to her bottom that makes her more aware of the burning heat now composing her ass. He bends to kiss each cheek before his hand is there again, hard, making her yelp without control and driving her mind to the edge. He softly trails his fingers over each cheek, giving her a moment before the severe impact of the fifth blow that’s too hard, making her scream, “No.” She’s tempted to say, “safe,” but the sting fades to a manageable level and she doesn’t want to let him down, she can take each spank one at a time. 

“So good to pay for what you did,” he tells her as his hand brushes her back and then squeezes each cheek uncomfortably, causing Sansa to breath out, “Ow,” at each touch. Before she is ready, Sandor is already giving her another smack, right where her thighs meet, making her cry out from the sharp pain of his hand against the top of her thighs and her battered ass. He aims higher for the next blow but it lands in a painful sting, making her tears flow down her cheeks again.

“Okay, little bird?” he asks her while gentle rubbing his large, calloused hands down her back and ass. She nods, knowing there’s only three left, but she yelps loudly as he puts his vast strength into the most severe pain yet, the impact so hard as he makes her wheeze, trying to catch her breath, her mind a mess trying to process the pain. She breathes out, “Safe, please safe," and he's there helping her up and holding her close before picking her up and in his arms and carrying her to her bedroom He sets her down on her side so as not to hurt her very sore bum and finds a blanket to wrap her in. As he stands up to look at her, Sansa’s hand extends out to him, “Please stay with me, don’t leave me,” she pleads. He’s right there next to her then, whispering, “Never,” holding her close, and petting her wild hair. She cries against his shoulder, shaking as she comes down off all the intense sensations and feelings.

“You’re so strong to take as much as you did. I’m so proud of you, my little bird,” he tells her in a soft rasp into her ear.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t take ten, Sandor,” she whimpers against his chest.

“Shhh, little bird, it’s okay, you did more than I thought you could handle, you’re so good, and you have the perfect ass for spanking,” he pats her back, enveloped in her soft blanket. “I’ve been wanting to give you your spanking since you visited me the first time.”

“Really?” she looks up at him confused at the origin of his desires, blushing at his account of her bottom.

“I like it,” he rubs circles into her flesh, “and I knew it would be good for you somehow.”

“I don’t feel my guilt anymore for what I did to you,” she sniffles.

“It was never your fault, if anything that asshole of a boyfriend you had,” Sandor explains and that feels better, too, to blame that horrible boy. 

“At least we have each other now, right?” she looks up at him, unsure where they stand after such an intense experience together but knows she couldn’t handle it if he disappeared on her.

“Yes, Sansa, I hope you’ll let me have you,” Sandor looks so vulnerable with her as if it’s hurting him.

“I’m yours,” she smiles at him before burrowing next to him further. He rises to remove his outer clothes and shoes and then they crawl under her sheets together.

“Beats prison,” he jokes next to her, find a ticklish spot on her belly. She can’t help but giggle.

“Well, glad staying with me is better than that,” she jests back.

“You have no idea how good,” he tells her, wrapping his arms tight around her, she can barely squeeze hers up around his neck, as they hold each other and drift into the night.

 

 


End file.
